After
walking with Delycia this afternoon up and down the small hills in the
shoreline village of Noank, it was reassuring to recall the simple fact that
for every uphill there’s a downhill, and for every struggle there’s eventually
some sort of peace. I puffed and panted up the hills by the sea, but coming
down, I loosened up and felt my breath flowing freely. It was work on the
uphill, but almost like merrymaking on the downhill. This is a little like
life, I was thinking later – this cycle of labor followed by leisure, turmoil
followed by at least a touch of tranquility. There will always be uphill climbs
in my life, and they will always bring sweat and distress, but each will lead,
in due course, to fairly free and easy downhill runs and at least a short-lived
rest. It’s good to know that beyond all my mountains will be brief but easy sloping trails.
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